The Return III
by jj1980
Summary: Going home is not as easy for John and Liz as it should be, so they need a little help from their friends... from both galaxies! Spoilers for The Return, mainly, but also a few hopefully subtle hints at other eps, but no real spoilers.
1. Ramifications

A/N: Hope you enjoy! This is what happened behind the scenes in my own little version of SGA :)

There is some swearing and sexual situations, though nothing graphic (a more explicit version can be found at Command Dynamics). Also, there are some rather strong hints at Sam/Jack in chapters 2 and 3, in case some don't like that.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved of course, in fact they make may day/week/year :-D

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The Return – Part III

Chapter 1: Ramifications 

"There you go, John, back where you belong. "

John Sheppard stepped back to admire his handiwork. He'd done a good job of restoring his quarters to their former glory after their return from earth and the Johnny Cash poster over his bed was the final touch. A slow smile crept over his face as he breathed in the salty air coming through the window.

Home.

Yes, this was home and it was good to be back. He had to keep himself reminding of that. A few weeks ago there would have been no doubt about which galaxy he'd prefer to be in at any given moment, but today… after… now he was not so sure. Things had changed and he doubted they'd ever be the same as before.

"May I come in?" The words, spoken so fast as if they were a single one, shook him out of his reverie. He turned to the door to find McKay standing in it, holding his laptop.

"Sure. I was just cleaning up the mess the Lanteans left behind."

"You mean the Replicators."

"No, I mean the Lanteans. Last I checked, it was them who send us home."

Rodney's eyes narrowed a little and John just knew that he was debating with himself whether the argument was worth it. He bit back a smile and wondered, not for the first time, whether McKay had any idea how predictable he was. His money was on no, and he sure wasn't going to tell him.

Apparently he decided to let it go, because after a few moments he asked "So, you're glad to be back?"

John, who had turned back to his trunk to get some DVDs out, stopped dead in his tracks. Predictable huh? He had to hand it to the guy, when he managed to surprise him, he managed to **surprise** him. Being spot on about somebody else's feelings was usually anything but McKay's strong suit.

"Of course I'm glad to be back. What kind of question is that?" he answered and resumed his unpacking without looking at his friend.

"It's just that you seemed a little… distant at the meeting this morning."

He snorted. Distant hardly covered it. He had stood beside Elizabeth in the gateroom while she welcomed all personnel back to Atlantis and expressed her hopes that they would continue their great professional work as explorers, scientists and friends to each other and to their neighbours. He was well aware that her choice of words had been at least partly for his benefit. And while she had continued to talk about the second chance they'd been given in Pegasus, his mind had gone back three million light years and four weeks.

"_What if we do go back?"_

"_Well I'd say the chances for that are pretty slim but if we do, I suppose we'll deal with it."_

"_Yeah, we're good at that, aren't we? Dealing, I mean."_

"_The best."_

As it turned out, he wasn't nearly as good at it as he had claimed. Because right at that moment, he would have gladly handed Atlantis, hell, the whole Pegasus Galaxy over to the Wraith just to go back to that morning in Colorado Springs, where for the first time in forever, he'd been at peace with the universe.

"Sheppard?" Oh, right, McKay. "You're… um, doing it again."

Okay, he needed to come up with an excuse and fast. "Yeah, sorry. I guess the last few weeks are just catching up with me. I mean…" Now he finally dared to turn around and face him. "it's been a bit much: the gate bridge, the Lanteans, being thrown out of your home, spending six weeks chasing after the Ori with some stupid excuse for a team. Being on Earth." _Having an affair with Elizabeth._ "And now coming back here, after destroying the Replicators and rescuing O'Neill and Woolsey. You'd think I had the right to some emotional exhaustion, wouldn't you?"

When exactly had he become defensive? He wasn't sure but his voice had been rising steadily until at the end of his little speech, he was all but shouting at McKay. The latter looked at him, a startled expression on his face.

"Hey, hey, I'm not blaming you here, I'm just… concerned."

He gave a bitter laugh. "Oh please, who put you up to this? Teyla and Ronon?"

McKay hemmed and hawed for a moment, before he finally looked away guiltily. "They may have mentioned something…over lunch."

John just nodded. "More like threatened you with bodily harm to come and talk to me. Why didn't they come here themselves if they were so worried?"

"I suppose they thought someone who was back on Earth with you would be more… sympathetic."

"Sympathetic? Damn cowards. No offence McKay, but they wanted someone sympathetic and they sent you?"

Instantly, the expression on Rodney's face changed from slightly anxious to arrogantly defensive. "Well, offence taken, tank you!" he spat "And for your information, I wasn't their first choice!"

John chuckled. He didn't buy it for a second that Rodney was actually hurt; they knew each other to well for that. "Doc turn 'em down?"

"Apparently."

"Yeah, well I'm sure he had his reasons." He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. For a change, none of this was McKay's fault and it wasn't fair to put him in this position. These were his issues and he would sort them out on his own. That was how he'd handled things all his life, a fact that sure as hell wasn't gonna change now – and he'd make sure Ronon and Teyla knew that. Elizabeth had already made it clear that she'd be unavailable in that respect. Which left…

"Listen, McKay, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm fine, really… I just – need some time to sort a few things out for myself. I'll be back to being my old sparkling self in no time."

McKay examined him for a moment with a look that could have been mistaken for honest concern. Then his face contorted into a fake smile, "Well if you say so, I've, um, done my duty." He turned to go, but stopped himself at the last second. "You know, um… If you decide otherwise… about, you know, the talking thing? I'm...uh, here."

John couldn't help but smile, more than a little touched. For all his arrogant bravado, McKay was proving to be a good friend time and again. "Thanks Rodney. I do."

At this, the scientist gave him another, rather shy smile and eventually left.

John let himself fall back on the bed and groaned. He couldn't really blame his friends for being worried and protective. Hell, he'd do the same if roles were reversed. And it was true, ever since all the racket around their little "return home and save the city" mission had died down and he'd had time to actually think, mentally he was living anywhere but in the moment. Things had happened back on earth that had shaken him out of his calm to an extent where he felt positively adrift, with no fix point to hold on to anymore.

Face it Shep, he ordered himself inwardly, Elizabeth has been your fix point all along, that little hope that was always hidden in her smile. Aloud he just said "Seems like that hope is gone now."

* * *

Elizabeth sat in her office trying to get some work done, but she just couldn't concentrate. The file she had in front of her was, if not tremendously important, at least rather urgent; it stated all the items that the single departments had requisitioned to be brought on the next call in from Daedalus. In an hour, General O'Neill would step through the gate for one last visit before the Earth ZPM was brought to Antarctica and he'd be expecting to take that list with him. That's why she really should get a move on and finish that one last report before he got here. 

For the umpteenth time, she tried to focus. Okay. Carson asked for a new defibrillator, along with the necessary equipment. Done - she wouldn't want that one to fail in a critical situation. A stash of sedatives, painkillers, stimulants,… Damn, hadn't she put that down already? She gave a frustrated growl and sat back in her chair.

Damn John Sheppard. Damn him to hell. Him and those stupid, beautiful green eyes of his, that smile, those gentle hands, the sense of humor, the warm loyalty… _stop it Beth!_ she ordered herself. _Why have you ever let it come this far?_

Here in Atlantis, things had always been so clear between them, so structured. Elizabeth liked structure. She liked to put order to chaos, to talk reason into emotion, to put things into a palpable, straight line. And with John, that line had always been plain and clearly defined. Friends and co-workers, in that order. Flirting, teasing, yes, but never more. Always retaining a definite, respectful distance. So what if there had been sparks flying everywhere whenever they were in the same room. And what did it matter that there had been some nights when she had lain awake, trying not to imagine how easy it would be just to get up, walk over to his quarters and forget, just for a few hours, that there were things more important than them?

If it had been hard back then to resist that urge, it was downright torture now. Now that she knew what it was like not only to make love to him, but to wake up wrapped in his warmth, his scent, the feel of his body. Elizabeth closed her eyes and shivered. Something inside of her had known from the start that it was a mistake, when he had appeared on her doorstep that night. A crooked smile on his lips, a bottle of wine in one hand and a movie in the other. Disney's _Atlantis_, no less. His idea of a joke. She still had to smile at it. And it had been so easy to relax with him, the one person on Earth who could truly understand what she had lost. He had also turned out to be the one person to be able to make that chill go away, the one which haunted her days and nights at what was supposed to be her home.

A shiver crawled down her spine as she remembered the feeling, that awareness that she was light-years from where she was supposed to be, which had manifested itself as a chill deep down inside of her. The only times when she had been truly warm back on Earth was when she was in his arms. She remembered him mocking her about wearing socks in bed and her indignant reply.

"_They're warm and fuzzy. Not much else is, these days."_

"_Not very romantic, though, Lizzie."_

_She turned to him, suddenly serious, and looked straight into his eyes. "Is this what this is about? Romance?"_

_He took a moment before reacting to the abrupt change of mood. But instead of denying or affirming her question, he took her face in both hands, his eyes never leaving hers, and pulled her into a soul-searing kiss. A kiss that made her forget her name, forget about Earth and Atlantis, Ancients and Wraith, war and expeditions. A kiss that lit a fire inside of her and once again, drove the chill from her bones. When they parted, his eyes were as dark and intense as she knew her own must be. _

"_Can you feel that?" he asked hoarsely. She nodded helplessly, her face still trapped between his palms. Yes, she could. Could feel that this was right, that this was where she belonged – although she was anything but sure that's what he meant._

"_That's what this is about." he said matter-of-factly and when he pulled her towards him again, all she could do was bury her face into the crook of his neck and hope that she would never have to leave again. Ever._

"_Now, about those socks…" he said after a while, slowly over-enunciating, so she had to giggle, placing a light kiss on his collarbone. _

"_They keep me warm!"_

_At that, he had just kissed the top of her head and whispered, "That's my job now." _

* * *

John stood on the balcony of his quarters and looked at the blurry line where the sky met the ocean. He had just under an hour before he had to be back in the control room, where General O'Neill was expected for a final visit, before Atlantis would resume its normal operations. Finally, life would go its usual course again – as far as anything was ever usual or normal here, that was. When they had come back, things had gone so fast - commandeering the jumper, rescuing the General and Woolsey while destroying the Replicators in the process. After that, there had been endless preparations and meetings about all the hows and whens of returning, re-starting the expedition. John doubted Elizabeth got as much as a five minute break, let alone any sleep for days. So, as desperately as he wanted to, there was no way they could catch a few moments alone in that time, which was probably for the best. As it were, they were their professional bests under their superiors' noses and got the move back done in record time. It wasn't until their first night in the city that he found the opportunity to speak to her. 

Had it really been only last night that he had knocked on the door of her quarters? It already seemed to be such a long time ago.Cliché of all clichés, it had been raining – rare in Atlantis' subtropical climate, but quite fitting in retrospect. He hadn't really known what he expected. Definitely not an easy and clean continuation of their… relationship, for the lack of a better word. He was no idiot; he knew that it was grief that had brought them together on earth in the first place. But the fact that they could comfort and complement each other so perfectly, the way he felt when he was with her – that had to count for something, right? He knew she felt the same, or sort of the same, she had all but admitted as much to him. Not in so many words, but he had felt it in her kiss, in her touch; he could see it in her eyes whenever they locked with his. Those eyes that had always been able to communicate so much to him silently, the ones he always searched for first when he stepped back through the gate.

_The eyes that looked at him when the doors to her quarters slid open were cold and hard as emeralds and what little hope he had of this visit going well dwindled quickly. "Hey."_

"_Hey. I was wondering when you were going to show up."_

_Without any further invitation, she turned around and walked back into the room. He followed her rather hesitantly, the apprehension clear on his face. She still had her back turned to him, so he could make out merely her outline in front of the window. The rain running down the glass suddenly brought the image of the city rising back to his mind, Lizzie's face behind the wet glass. Even then he had felt that connection with her. Now he could see that she was wringing her hands nervously, as she did when faced with a difficult decision. Okay, buck up, flyboy, he told himself, there is no way around this._

"_So... are we going to talk about it?"_

_At that she did turn to him, but he instantly wished she didn't. John Sheppard knew when he was being dumped. The last time he had seen this look on a woman's face was when his now ex-wife had handed him a stash of papers to sign. "John…"_

"_I'm not gonna like this, am I?"_

_She sighed, and the hand wringing increased to a point where he was wondering whether she was purposely inflicting pain upon herself. "John, you must have known this can't go on once we're back here."_

"_And you're just gonna walk away from everything, as if it never happened." It wasn't a question._

"_I can't afford to do anything else. There was a reason we didn't get involved here in the first place."_

_He felt his heart harden. "Yeah, remind me, what was that again?"_

_Her gaze dropped and she actually started to enumerate. "Favouritism, undermining of both our authorities, being able to be compromised easily, distraction…"_

"_None of them are actually valid, you know that, right?" he burst out. "You wouldn't and couldn't favour me even if you wanted to, as I pretty much do what I want anyway. Our authorities have never been undermined by the fact that half the people here think we've been doing it from the get go and as for distraction and being compromised … hell, Lizzie, it's a bit late for that, isn't it?"_

"_Don't call me that." she whispered without looking at him._

"_What, Lizzie? I call you Lizzie all the time!"_

"_No, you called the woman you were sleeping with Lizzie." Now, she finally looked up and into his eyes. "The woman who needed you so much it hurt, and for whom you were…" She bit her lip as she cut herself off. "But she is not here, John. She can't be here, it's not her place. She stayed back on Earth."_

He had always thought that the term "heartbreak" was just a metaphor, but last night, right in that moment, he had felt something break and shatter within him. He didn't even remember how he had got back to his own quarters. So apparently, it had not been Dr. Elizabeth Weir that he had shared his bed with, but some stranger named Lizzie.

The irony stung. Initially, he had used the nickname on purpose, to distinguish between their Atlantis and earth personas and in that way, as he had believed, make the transition easier. But it seemed that she had taken his game a little too seriously and turned it into a way of justifying her own actions. He had to face it now: she'd used him. Used him to ease the pain, the loneliness, the grief over what they had lost, which would have been alright, had there been any personal consideration in it. This – fling – he realized, had never been about him, but about clinging to some part of Atlantis.

Maybe she had even honestly believed that that went both ways. After all he was the slut of Atlantis, wasn't he? He'd been a sport about it, but somehow he had always known that reputation (whether deserved or not) would come back and bite him in the ass one day. Kirk, that was him. Fucking his way through the Pegasus Galaxy, princess by alien princess. Why should she assume that he had feelings? And if he didn't have any feelings, he – obviously – could not be hurt. How convenient for Liz… for Dr. Weir. Cause if he didn't have any feelings and hence, couldn't be hurt, she didn't need to feel any qualms about discarding him like any old rag.

Which was exactly what she had done.

It wasn't so much the fact that she didn't think this relationship was worth pursuing. Hell, there were more than enough reasons why he wasn't good enough for her. If she needed a list, his family and ex-wife would be happy to provide her with the complete A to Z. But the fact that she could be so cold hearted about all this, that she could walk away from their time together without so much as an apparent regret… he had really believed he meant more to her than that.

John sighed and looked at his watch. Half an hour to go, he needed to get his act back together. There was no way he would let this affect his duties once operations were up and running again. There were worlds to explore, Wraith to fight – and if Dr. Elizabeth Weir chose to be his commander and nothing more, that's exactly what she would be.

* * *

Warmth. Yes, she was warm again now. The problem was, she wasn't entirely sure whether she owed that to their return or to the gentle touch, the memory of which still tingled her skin. 

_Jesus, Beth, get a grip on yourself! You have never before let your… infatuation with this man get the better of you and you won't start now._ That had been the whole point of her little charade last night in her quarters, when he came to see her. God, the look in his eyes – somewhere between hurt and anger and something else – had made her want to hold him and make the same mistakes all over again. The trouble was, as much as she tried to explain it, she didn't think he'd believed her reasons for ending, or rather not continuing their relationship. His instincts were too strong and too wired not to detect the insincerity behind them. Still, she had yet to see him since. All she hoped was that he didn't think it was somehow his fault, by intention or character. Because after all was said and done, she couldn't imagine life in Atlantis without his steady presence by her side. As a friend and co-worker, a fellow leader. In that order.

Still, if things were different…

But they weren't and she had to keep reminding herself of that. Just like General O'Neill most definitely would if she didn't get that report done in the next – shit, twenty minutes. Her laptop beeped again and one glance at it revealed the thirteenth email from Rodney today, subject line: "ZPMs". Damn, that man was persistent. But first things first. Carson needed a new defibrillator…

**TBC**


	2. Observations

Chapter 2: Observations

"Offworld Activation!" Chuck barked into Elizabeth's ear.

A wince and a dirty look later, he added in a decidedly lower voice, "It's the SGC, Ma'am."

She nodded, biting back a grin. She was actually really looking forward to seeing the General again on what appeared to be nothing but a relaxed send-off into normal operations. She had liked him and his quirky sense of humor from the start, whe she had still been his superior at the SGC, and it would be all the more welcome in her current state of mind.

Speaking of which…

She sensed rather than saw or heard someone step onto the arcade beside her, a sudden rise of tension in the air.

"Colonel."

"Dr. Weir."

A glance towards Sheppard revealed that he had assumed parade rest, pretty much the stiffest posture she had ever seen him in. The trademark smirk and quip were also missing in action. Oh boy.

Elizabeth tapped her radio. "General, step on through, you're most welcome."

The event horizon rippled and a frowning Jack O'Neill emerged from the electric blue. She couldn't help but notice that, despite their usual similarities (and there were to many to count), he was the opposite of John right now: wearing his old one-star BDU's (she'd been told they were custom made for him when he was still running the SGC) and carrying a briefcase and a duffel, he looked around the gateroom with a blank expression that, oddly, was almost comical,. Then his eyes found her. To anyone who didn't know him, he would seem more like an overgrown three year old with white hair and a uniform instead of a hardened soldier who almost single-handedly brought an end to the Goa'uld reign in the Milky Way.

Elizabeth guessed that this was not only part of his charm, but also among the main reasons for his success. People underestimated him, if not his physical prowess, then at least his intelligence – that way he was always one step ahead of them. But she had learned long ago that, easy going though he may be, Jack O'Neill was also as sharp and perceptive as they came.

"General!" she greeted him, making her way to the stairs. "Good to see you again."

O'Neill returned her open smile with his rather devious one. "Backatcha. No intergalactic crisis, viral outbreak, lifesucking aliens at the gate, I take it?"

Her grin widened. "Right now? Not that I know of."

"Good, then this should be short and sweet." He turned a little. "Sheppard."

"Sir." Elizabeth couldn't believe her eyes when he actually saluted smartly.

Apparently, neither could O'Neill. "Nice one, Sheppard, the last time you did that was when I met you!" When John didn't move a muscle in reply, he frowned and went on. "I think since you did a fair job at saving my ass last week, let's just make the following a standing order: at ease!"

Elizabeth could have sworn she saw John's mouth twitch slightly at that, before he barked. "Yes sir." and assumed parade rest again. O'Neill just raised his eyebrows and Elizabeth thought it best to choose this moment to gesture both men to follow her up the stairs.

"If you would follow me, Colonel Sheppard has his team as well as Dr Beckett waiting in the briefing room. I thought you might like a chance to talk to all of them again before we get to the administrative part."

O'Neill just nodded distractedly. "Sure, great… um," He threw a quick look over his shoulder, before he mouthed to Elizabeth. "What's with him?"

Elizabeth just shrugged and fervently hoped that the heat in her cheeks didn't mean she was blushing. O'Neill shook his head slightly and went on. "Anyway, before we get in there – if I'm correctly informed, there isn't really much to do for us today apart from shoving a bit of paper, so… I thought I could get the two of you to unwind a bit for one night. Relaxed evening, kicking back a little before it's back to the treadmill… how about it? – I even brought beer!" He actually grinned like a little boy in a candy store as he lifted the duffel bag for emphasis.

Elizabeth had to grin. She knew there was a reason she liked O'Neill – this was his way of saying thank you. "Sounds great General. May I suggest the balcony over the south-west pier at 2000 hours? I'll have someone set up…"

"I'm sorry General, but I don't think I'll be able to make it." John interrupted her. Elizabeth suddenly felt cold. "I kinda have plans already."

O'Neill's eyebrows were slowly becoming very well acquainted with his hairline. "You sure? It's Guinness, you know." he said as if that changed everything.

Elizabeth was waiting for a tiny tell, a quick look in her direction, but nothing. John looked steadily at the General and just nodded. "Yes, I'm really sorry, but I couldn't possibly delay my… uh, plans."

"Right." O'Neill sighed. "Your loss. If you change you mind, you know we'll be…" He looked at Elizabeth.

"On the balcony overlooking the south-west pier." she provided helpfully, still scrutinizing her military commander.

"Exactly. 2000 hours."

John just gave a curt nod and Elizabeth's heart sank even further. "Yes sir. Shall we?"

The meeting was quick, as expected. The General thanked them all again for their efforts in saving the city, not forgetting to mention that next time, he'd appreciate to be kept in the loop about things. Elizabeth caught John's gaze a few times but the cold look in his eyes told her clearly that he had no intention of either explaining or changing his act in the near future. She might as well have tried to communicate with a wall. Eventually, she called in two SFs to show O'Neill to his quarters, where he could settle in before they met again in her office in half an hour to go over any administrative issues that were still unclear – including that infamous list of supplies.

As the team filed out of the room, Elizabeth took a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet. "John, a word?"

He'd already been half out of the door, but now he stopped dead in his tracks, smiling at Teyla who passed him with an apprehensive expression on her face. When they were alone, he slowly turned around.

"Ma'am?"

Elizabeth just shook her head. "John, I realize that spending an evening with me is not high up on your list of favourite things to do right now, but you could be a little more appreciative of General O'Neill's efforts to thank us. He didn't have to do that."

"As I told the General, I have plans that can't be postponed. I'm sorry, but since this is my spare time, I believe I am still allowed to spend it the way I choose to."

"Of course you are. I'm just saying, if this is about what happened last night…"

"Dr Weir," he interrupted her, his voice icy. "is there anything else you wish to discuss with me or am I free to resume my duties now?"

She actually winced and broke the eye contact. "No, that's all." It came out as no more than a whisper.

John, however, turned without any further hesitation and left the room. Consequently, he didn't see Elizabeth sink into one of the chairs and rub her face with her hands, frustrated. And he also didn't know how hard she had to fight back the tears, as she realized that she might have broken something precious beyond repair.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, John strolled down the corridor to Teyla's gym, ready to get the crap kicked out of him once again. He poked the door opening device with one of his fighting sticks, but upon entering, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Instead of warming up in her sparring gear, Teyla was sitting by the window, still wearing the normal clothes he'd seen her in at the meeting. Her sticks were lying on the floor in a far corner.

"John." When she saw him, her face was split by smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He frowned.

"Teyla? I thought we were sparring today, did I miss something?"

"No, no. You are quite right." She paused and patted the bench beside her. "John, please be seated. There is something that needs to be discussed."

Now this had him quite alarmed. Teyla never missed a sparring session if the schedule allowed it, she regarded her training regime and that of her students as a very important duty. "Okay." He sat down beside her and put his sticks on the ground, aware that her eyes were never leaving his face.

"Teyla, you're scaring me here. What happened?"

"That is what I was going to ask you, John. You haven't been quite yourself lately."

Right, that. He lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head. "Listen Teyla, as I've told McKay, I appreciate your worrying but it's just the stress catching up with me…"

"No," she stopped him. "I know you are capable of handling situations much worse, I have seen it. I know that there is more to this – and I know that it has to do with Dr Weir."

Now that hit him like a two by four. He turned away from her to look at the opposite wall. "What makes you think that?"

"I have eyes, John." She smiled. "Also… I have overheard part of your… conversation with Dr Weir in the briefing room."

John's lips twisted into a bitter smile of his own. "I see."

"It was an accident, but I believe it might have been a lucky one. What has transpired between the two of you that has made you so angry?"

"Well, since you're so smart, I'm sure you'll be able to figure that one out, too. Not that it would be any of your business."

Teyla wasn't offended; she could see that John was hurting about something. And although she was by no means sure, he was right about one thing – she had a feeling what this was about.

"Do you remember, right at the beginning of our acquaintance, how I told you that even leaders, in spite of all their responsibility, are entitled to have feelings?"

John still stared at the wall. "Believe me, lately, I thought about that more often than you would believe."

"And what is your conclusion?"

"That I'm not the one who needs to be convinced of that." Suddenly he turned to her. "You are a wise woman Teyla, and there is something else you once told me. Something I have tried to judge my actions by ever since."

She looked straight into his eyes. "What did I say?"

"That in our fight against the Wraith, we may not give up that which makes us different from them. Our humanity. Tell me Teyla, what makes us different from the Wraith?"

She was slightly taken aback at the sudden turn of the conversation. "A respect for human life, compassion, the ability to love…"

"The ability to love, there you go!" he roared and got up so suddenly, she actually winced. Then he started pacing in front of the window. "So, if you deny yourself that because of the fight we are fighting, what does that say about you?"

Teyla hesitated. Even though she didn't know exactly what he was referring to, she had the feeling that a great deal might depend on her answer. She had to choose her words carefully. "I do not believe that one can make that choice consciously. To love is not a decision, it is a fact of nature – you are either capable of it, or not."

John stopped abruptly and looked at her. Teyla could practically see the thoughts processing behind his eyes; she only wished she was privy to their content.

"You're right, Teyla. As always." He said slowly, never breaking the eye contact. Then he picked up his sticks and hesitated for a moment, before he walked over to her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Thank you."

And while, stunned, she raised her hand to touch the spot where he'd kissed her, he turned to leave the room.

"John!" she called after him and to her surprise, he actually stopped in the doorway, though without turning around. "Please don't make any rash judgements. Not everyone who appears strong at all times actually feels this way on the inside."

The only answer she received was the sound of the doors sliding shut.

* * *

The fresh, salty air streaming into his lungs felt wonderful. This was his favourite spot in the whole city, right up on top of one of the lower towers on the edge of the east pier. From here, you could look up and see the city in all its pristine glory, see what it was they were all trying to preserve and protect, a symbol of all the values they held dear.

Plus, you could see the sun set right behind the central spire from here and John had always had a soft spot for dramatic sunsets. At one point during the last few days – after it had been clear they'd be going back to Atlantis, but definitely before last night – he had planned to take Elizabeth here to share this with her. Now, he was not so sure he was willing to share anything with her ever again.

He knew he was being childish, but damnit, he was hurt. Hurt and angry and frustrated and obviously not able to hide it. He couldn't go on like this, he had to talk to Elizabeth again. If he didn't, he'd become a liability, not only to his team but to the whole of Atlantis. The leader of the expedition and its military commander needed to be able to function as a team and right now, he felt like he was suffocating even being in the same room with her.

John watched as the outline of the city grew darker and darker against the setting sun. He couldn't allow that to happen. No, he would go and talk to her again, even if it killed him. Either he and Elizabeth resolved their issues, or he would have to face the consequences. Even if that meant leaving everything behind that was important to him. Even if that meant leaving Atlantis.

* * *

"There we are, Elizabeth. One Guinness, nice and cold." Jack handed her the bottle and sat down on the chair beside her.

"Thank you, General. I have to say, it's been a while since I had a good beer."

"My pleasure. But please, it's Jack, off hours. You did save my sorry ass, after all."

She nodded, slowly. "All right… Jack."

He nodded back and turned towards the railing of the balcony they were sitting on. They were lucky, after yesterdays surprising bout of rain, the weather had cleared up again and they were treated with a nice and starry night. Jack let out an appreciative sigh. "This view is quite something." He pointed at the south-west pier directly below them. "And I bet the fishing down there is fantastic."

She chuckled. "You'd have to ask Carson about that. He's our local fishing expert, I am told."

"Carson, huh? I knew there was something about the man that I liked."

"He's a kind soul." she mused and took another swig of her beer. Then she suddenly grinned. "And I'm sure he'd appreciate a Guinness just as much, being Scottish."

Jack sat up abruptly and moved as if to grab her bottle. "Okay, that's it. No more of this fine ambrosia for you, if you don't even know the basics." he replied indignantly.

Elizabeth laughed. "Relax, Jack. I'm kidding; I know it's Irish, of course."

"Right." He gave her another suspicious look, then relaxed back into his seat. "Anyway, how does the beer shortage come about? I would have thought Sheppard kept the beer a-flowin' in Atlantis. He seems the type."

She bit her lip. "I'm sure he has a stash somewhere, as do other people. Officially however, I'm turning a blind eye and… we don't really… hang out."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I got the impression that the two of you are quite close."

The sly bastard.Elizabeth squirmed slightly in her seat. She had an inkling where this conversation was going and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"You could say that… we've been through a lot together." She decided on her standard response to that question.

Jack actually snorted. "Oh don't gimme that! Don't think I can't read the looks between you two, today's little charade – which I won't even bother asking about – aside. I've been there, done it, got the t-shirt, believe you me."

Make that sly, perceptive bastard.

She took another sip from her beer and stole a glance at him. On the other hand, she didn't have to ask what he was talking about when he said he'd been there. The discretion with which he and Colonel Carter had always handled their relationship made her all the more proud to be in his confidence. When she didn't answer, he went on.

"What I don't get is, what the hell is your problem? You're not military, it's not like they'd come crashing in on Atlantis, screaming court martial. And if you're discreet, you might even keep the rumors at bay. We managed… eventually."

"Yeah, but it took you how long? Eight years?"

He sighed. "Oh yes, eight long years…" He paused and looked at her pointedly. "Eight years with said court martial looming over our heads! What's the deal, Elizabeth? One would think you actually liked being miserable like this."

"Who said I was miserable?"

"Well, for starters, whatever there was going on between you two in that briefing room today... Dead giveaway. I might not be known for my emotional sensitivity, but after everything Sam and I had to deal with, I know what I saw."

Elizabeth studied the older man's face. This confrontation was, if not wholly unexpected, at least startling. She was less surprised that he had spotted the tension between her and John at first glance, than at the fact that he actually took an interest, that he actually cared. Who'd have thought Jack O'Neill was such a romantic?

"Well, for starters" she echoed him, "I may not be military, but as far as my position goes, I might as well be. And for the record, I think the frat regs are in place for a good reason. In a situation like ours, we can't allow ourselves to be emotionally compromised."

"Bullshit!" he interrupted. "It's not like you can shut off your feelings for a person, whether you're involved or not. It doesn't make a difference."

Elizabeth smiled into her beer. "That's pretty much what John said."

"Smart man."

"He is… sometimes."

There was a long pause, before he said softly. "You should take it from someone who knows: don't waste any time. It could all be over tomorrow, one way or the other. You should use the time that you have. Don't make the same mistakes we did."

"I know Jack, it's just not that simple."

At that he gave a soft chuckle and turned to her. "Surprise Dr Weir: it actually is! All you have to do is want it to be."

"You don't understand. There are certain things I need in my life. Things I need in order to function properly. Rules, definitions, order, a firm ground to stand on. John, he…. He's the opposite of all that. He's danger and excitement and passion and impulse…. When he looks at me a certain way, that ground actually starts to shake."

"Sounds serious."

"Hmpf."

"You should marry him. That's what I did when I felt that way last time." She raised her eyebrows, so he back-pedalled. "Well, not quite yet, but the plans are firmly in place. But either way, ground shaking? That's definitely serious."

Now Elizabeth just groaned. "You must be kidding…."

"Nope, not kidding. That's love, Liz. Face it or the regrets will bite you in the… um, you know."

"Oh God!" She buried her face in her hands. "Maybe if I had more time to adjust to the idea... so I can be sure I can handle the situation…" _Handle him._

"Excuses, Liz. It's been over two years already, for crying out loud! And you can't tell me that this is a recent development. Bottom line is, you take too much time, you risk losing him altogether. Again, I know all about that. Trust me on this."

And with that, he finished his beer and opened two new bottles, pushing one over to her. Meanwhile, Elizabeth stared at the lights of Atlantis, reflecting prettily in the water. Her mind was completely elsewhere.

Jack smiled. Mission accomplished. She'd come around, sooner or later. He just hoped now Sheppard wouldn't go and turn out to be an idiot after all.

* * *

"I am not drunk!"

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and picked up the pace to prove her point. Behind her, she heard the General chuckle.

"You so are! And that after I had the brunt of the beer… shame on you!"

At that, she came to an abrupt halt and turned around – which proved to be a mistake as she suddenly became dizzy and started to sway dangerously. Jack quickly rushed to her side to steady her.

"You were saying?" he said mockingly.

"Shut up!"

Another chuckle. "There now, insubordination goes a long way with me, Doc!"

She giggled. "I think I actually am drunk."

"A little bit tipsy maybe. Good thing that those appear to be your quarters right here."

She turned around and her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, right, they are. How did you…?"

He just grinned. "Hey if I ultimately managed to find my way through a Goa'uld mothership, Atlantis is piece of cake!"

She laughed, but suddenly became serious. "Thanks Jack, for everything. Not only your advice tonight – however unsolicited" They both grinned at that. " – but for your support in general. I know I probably would not still be here if…"

"…if you weren't the best person for the job? No, you wouldn't."

She smiled again. "Good to know at least someone believes in me still."

Jack knew Elizabeth well enough to know that he was witnessing a rare moment of vulnerability – be it alcohol-induced or otherwise. He could only guess at the emotional roller-coaster she'd been through lately, which was why he had suggested this night off in the first place – he'd experienced it every time the SGC had been threatened to be shut down. And since Atlantis was not only figuratively but literally Elizabeth's life, she must have felt that turmoil tenfold… anything that might or might not have happened between her and John Sheppard aside.

It was unfortunate, really, that both of them were in fact more than a little bit tipsy. Had they not been, at least Jack would certainly have felt Sheppard's eyes boring into his back and refrained from letting his soft side get the better of him. But as it was, he smiled warmly at the distraught woman in front of him, who had never been less the confident leader of the most important expedition in human history, whispered a soft "Come here." and enveloped her in a much needed embrace.

And while a single tear, borne from the older man's kindness as well as her own, screwed up situation, escaped Elizabeth's lids, John's expression grew ugly with anger. Without making a sound, he turned and left the scene. He neither wanted nor needed to witness how this would go on. He had seen enough.

**TBC**


	3. Fallout

Chapter 3: Fallout

Elizabeth made it through their first few days and nights back in operations after General O'Neill's departure having minimal contact with John, a circumstance she thought she could more than live with. What she had told Jack was true; she did need some time to come to terms with all the recent developments. How much time she couldn't say, but for now, as far as she was concerned, the less she saw of John Sheppard, the better.

His team had departed on one standard recon mission which – to the surprise of all involved – had gone smoothly and without any incident whatsoever. Friendly natives, in fact, a negotiation team was there now to establish trade relations. Long range sensors and offworld intel revealed no Wraith or Replicator activity whatsoever in the general area of Atlantis or its allies. Things were calm. Extremely calm. However, this also meant that, lucky for Elizabeth, she had hardly any need to consult with her military commander – which, in turn, only made her realize how often they had "found" such an occasion in quiet times in the past. In her office over coffee and – sometimes – a game of chess, in the mess hall for lunch or on their balcony. She still went out there at dusk, just like she had every day in the past two and a half years, to unwind and think things over. But since their trip to earth, he had yet to join her.

John had made things easy for her, really, much easier than she had expected. Her early fear that he would seek another confrontation seemed to have proven incorrect. He hadn't approached her yet and if she knew him at all, that meant he'd either given up on or never harboured the idea in the first place. John was a man of action, quick thinking and acting impulsively; he didn't need three days to plan an argument. If anything, he was even more distant to her than on that first day after their confrontation. When they met by chance or for some work-related matter, he was militarily formal, said and stayed in her presence as little as possible. She had also noted that he didn't call her by her first name anymore, but always Dr Weir or worse, the dreaded "Ma'am". All in all, he acted like she had asked of him, the poster child for a military commander and co-worker – and that was worrying in and of itself.

The truth was, despite her words and efforts to convince herself of the opposite, she missed him. Missed the crooked smile, the inane comments and friendly banter, which had eased the tension of their environment so much. While her iron discipline didn't allow her to think about all the other aspects of him that she had discovered on earth (_Like how soft his lips really are, the way his hands feel tangled in your hair, the soft scratch of his stubble on your skin? - her subconscious helpfully provided, only to be shushed down again for the umpteenth time that day_) no, even while she didn't permit herself to remember all that, she still missed her friend. Because one thing was crystal clear to her: the John Sheppard now on Atlantis was no longer her friend, merely her co-worker. Every time she saw him, her heart lurched at that thought and it was slowly beginning to grind her down.

She didn't think he'd be able to keep up that behaviour forever. Sooner or later he was going to crack. She just hoped that when the blow came, it would be swift and clean, not too devastating and most of all: in private.

She just hoped.

* * *

The blow came three days later.

It was quiet, just like the past few days had been. The most exiting event had been a small explosion in Zelenka's lab (no one got hurt) and she amused herself with the counting of McKay's emails about the importance of having more than one ZPM. She smiled when her computer beeped again, mentally readjusting today's number to "eight", when she saw that this one was, indeed, not from McKay at all. The subject line read "Strange development". With a frown, Elizabeth clicked it open.

_Elizabeth,_

_Lt. Col. Sheppard came to me today with a most surprising request, by which I must say I am more than a little distressed. _

_Why is it that you chose not to tell me that he asked to be reassigned away from the Atlantis expedition? Apart from the fact that I have come to respect the man immensely and would regret to lose him, you know very well that I should have a say in the choice of the new military commander for this base. _

_Don't get me wrong, I'm not vying for a job that isn't even vacant yet (again), but I will tell you that I do not appreciate being kept out of the loop like this. I thought we were past such rivalries._

_That said, we definitely should set up a meeting to discuss this new development. And did he bother to elaborate on his reasons? He wouldn't say a thing to me._

_Col. S. Caldwell_

It actually took her a few moments to realize what she had just read.

_Lt. Col. Sheppard… a transfer away from the Atlantis expedition… new military commander._

It seemed too surreal to believe. John actually wanted to leave? But it could not be because of… could it? Elizabeth felt her face go numb. No, there had to be another reason. Had to be. But then why had he gone to Caldwell with this and not to her? Didn't he even have the guts to face her, to tell her in person?

And what was he thinking, abandoning her, abandoning the expedition like that? So things didn't go as planned, a woman dares to say no to Lt. Col. Kirk and he just packs up and runs?

That rotten bastard! How dare he?

Her hand had almost reached her ear-piece, when she thought better of it. No, she wouldn't let him off that easily. This was something she was going to do face to face.

Without looking or indeed noticing anyone around her, she stormed right out of her office and through the control room, towards the nearest transporter. She was sure the colour of her face matched that of her shirt and she made a less than dignified appearance, but for once in her life she didn't care. Who cared what people thought? Now, it was time John Sheppard faced the damn music!

John Sheppard, who suddenly stood right in front of her when the transporter doors opened. The sudden sight of him triggered an instinctual response in Elizabeth. Without thinking, hesitating or even considering their whereabouts, she started screaming at him.

"You rat bastard! What the hell were you thinking?!"

The gateroom had never been so silent. Chuck was just gaping in their direction. Rodney and Zelenka, who had been working on the sensor relay, stopped dead in their tracks, Radek's glasses slightly askew. A few female technicians, who'd been happily chatting away earlier, only looked away from them occasionally to exchange meaningful glances.

Elizabeth didn't care.

To his credit, John didn't even try to feign ignorance, but he didn't look the slightest bit uneasy, either. Obviously, he had expected some kind of extreme reaction. "I take it you heard."

"Damn right I did."

"It was only the next logical step."

"And since when is logic your field of expertise? How about talking to me first before going to Caldwell over my head?!" her voice was so shrill it almost broke. Maybe it was that which made John take a quick glance around and suggest. "Dr Weir, maybe we should discuss this someplace else?"

It was the formality of his address that made her snap all over again. Her voice became calmer, but cold as ice – the voice she usually reserved for the Genii and the IOA. "No, as a matter of fact I'm quite comfortable here Colonel! What is it, don't you have the cojones to face me about this? If that's the case, maybe you should get your sorry ass re-assed, because I don't even want a whimp like that as my military commander!"

Point to Weir – John actually winced and his voice lost some of his casualness. "Well, we're not quite there yet." She could see his eyes darken with rage. "And to answer your earlier question: I did try to talk to you, remember?"

"Oh really? And you're sure I was there at the time?" she all but mocked him.

His eyes were only narrow slits when he spat his response: "Oh most definitely, as I don't make a habit of going to your quarters alone."

Whatever she had been about to say was lost to her now. Her jaw dropped and she just stared at him incredulously. "My… you're seriously telling me that is what this is about? And here I refused to believe you were that immature."

Now it was his turn to shout. "Immature, my ass! I just don't see how I can be working here any longer, so, as I said, I took the next logical step. I applied for a transfer." He snorted. "It really shouldn't come as much of a surprise to you. As a matter of fact I thought you'd be…" He gestured while looking for the right word. "…relieved!"

"Relieved? I can't believe you'd even consider yourself replaceable."

"Oh please, there's two dozen colonels with more qualifications than I have out there, practically drooling after the job."

"That's not true and you know it, Colonel! But even if it were, it's your damn job! You're cut out for it, you're good at it! This job IS you, for crying out loud! Two weeks ago you were pining away for this place as much as I was!"

Wrong thing to say, apparently. John launched forward until he was only inches away from her, pointing warningly.

"Don't you dare talk to me about two weeks ago! According to you, you weren't even there! And even if you had been, you seem to have gotten over it pretty damn fast! Excuse me if I don't want to bear witness to that."

And with that, John managed a rare feat: to render Dr Elizabeth Weir speechless. She just stood there, staring at him open-mouthed and utterly confused. What the hell was he talking about? He couldn't actually believe that what had happened between them left her cold, could he? She didn't know what to say.

* * *

Rodney watched the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement (hey, a full blown scandal after being back in operations for only three days, that's gotta be a record!), terror (Sheppard leaving? The man must be kidding!), guilt (How could something have gone so terribly wrong between his friends without him noticing it?) and actual annoyance. Apparently the leadership of this expedition had happily left professionalism back on earth. Great.

But when the yelling suddenly stopped and he saw the two of them stare each other down, Elizabeth's hand rising slowly as if to reach out for him, a shiver ran down his spine. Rodney McKay was not a sensitive man by any stretch of the imagination, but even he knew that he was witnessing an incredibly intimate situation. And he knew that, if he allowed this to continue, mere humiliation would probably be the least of their concerns when this was over. So he made a quick decision, there really was only one thing to do.

"OI!!"

By now, both of them had in the heat of their argument apparently become completely oblivious to the fact that there were other people in the room with them. So when they heard McKay's loud holler, they turned to him simultaneously and with equally shocked faces.

"As entertaining as this is – and believe me, I would love to see where you're going with it – I think it would be best if you continued this conversation someplace where it's not witnessed by half the city?"

A short silence fell and Rodney could practically feel the murderous thoughts of his co-workers for spoiling their entertainment. John actually blinked a few times before he answered "Right." and looked back at Elizabeth. She was already glaring at him again, hissing "Balcony, now." Spoke it and stomped past him.

Rodney watched John follow her rather meekly, a testament, he thought, for his state of shock about how this situation had escalated. No sooner had the door slid closed behind them than every eye in the room turned to him.

"Oh what?" he called, annoyed. "Somebody had to do it. It's not like y'all aren't gonna hear everything through the grapevine by nightfall anyway. Now back to work, there's nothing more to see!"

A round of murmurs went around the room as people slowly picked up where they left off. Rodney turned back to Zelenka and murmured, only loud enough so he could hear "It's just to damn bad those doors are soundproof."

* * *

When the doors closed behind him, John could see Elizabeth stand close to the railing, her face buried in her hands. For a short moment, he almost felt sorry for her; then he remembered - and didn't.

"Don't worry too much about it," he said, his voice dripping with cold sarcasm. "As soon as I'm gone, things are gonna be good again. The talk will die down eventually."

She looked at him, her eyes ablaze, but her voice only shook slightly. "Why? Why are you leaving? Honestly."

John was aghast. "Honestly? Are you kidding? You don't seriously have to ask?!"

"I do. Obviously I am missing something vital, something I have done to upset you, that…"

"Damn right you have done something to fucking upset me!" he yelled, "How about the fact that you made me feel used and cheap and stupid? You women don't have the exclusive rights to those feelings!"

She felt like he had slapped her right across the face. "I did what?"

"You used me, Lizzie!" He could have kicked himself for using the nickname. "And that would even have been sort of okay, the situation being what it was, but that you could walk away from it so cold-heartedly, so…"

"Cold-heartedly? You have no idea how hard it was for me to say what I had to say that night. But it was for the best and once you calm down, you'll know that as well as I do."

"I don't want to calm down. The way I see it, you've proven to me how little respect you have for me…"

"I have the highest respect for you."

"Professionally, maybe. But as a person, I'm no more than the guy who happens to be there. Here in Atlantis, I'm the only one who understands your position, back home, I was a handy body to warm the bed. And frankly, that's not enough for me Dr Weir."

She stared at him, incredulously. He actually believed that, she could tell. He actually cared. How could she have been so wrong about him? "Don't call me that all the time." She whispered helplessly, since she knew not what else to say.

"You're quite particular about the name thing, aren't ya?" His eyes gleamed evilly and he practically leered. "What do you get him to call you?"

Elizabeth blinked and looked at him. "Who?"

He snorted. "Oh come on, don't insult my intelligence! I saw you guys together, you know. Too wrapped up in each other to notice me, but maybe the old man's reflexes are just slowing down, who knows."

She frowned, but then the realization hit. "Are you talking about General O'Neill?"

The famous lopsided grin was back. Elizabeth had never known it could look so cruel. "Oh, there were others in the meantime, were there? You sure are a busy woman, Dr Weir."

"Now you're hitting below the belt, John."

"I only give as good as I get."

Okay, that was it. Elizabeth had a high threshold for bullshit (came with the job) but now he'd crossed a line. "Oh please! That's really rich, coming from you! What does McKay like to call you again? Kirk?"

"Oh right, you know you're out of arguments when you're counting on McKay for emotional assessment!"

She had crossed the balcony so fast he could have sworn there were Asgard involved. All of the sudden she was right in his face, the anger radiating from her enough to elicit a tiny shiver of anxiety down his spine. A furious Elizabeth Weir was truly an awesome sight to behold.

"Not that it's any of your business, but General O'Neill spend a nice evening together, one to which, if I remember correctly, you were invited and declined. Think of me what you will, but I won't have you go about and spread ridiculous rumours!"

He smirked again, though he felt a lot less confident now than only moments ago. If she said it like that… but still, he'd seen what he'd seen. "Touchy, are we? We wouldn't want our authority undermined after all by fraternizing with the boss. Wasn't that one of the reasons you gave for breaking up with me?"

She laughed bitterly. "How the heck could I break up with you, John! We didn't even have a relationship in the first place!"

"Oh, we didn't? Well, call me old fashioned, but I call having sex every night for four weeks and practically living with each other a relationship."

"You do, do you?" She put her hands on her hips and looked him squarely in the eyes. "If we were in a relationship then, why did we never talk about it? Why did we never go out, or tell anyone? Why on earth did we drive to dinner with our best friends in separate cars, didn't hold hands once that night, or kiss? And how come you didn't tell Rodney, when he called you worrying about me, that your girlfriend had been fine that morning when you left her after an hour-long wake-up session?" She paused and watched as his face fell. "That's not a relationship to me, John, that's friendship with benefits."

He winced at the coldness in her voice as well as her words, and she was a little taken aback herself. Where this little speech had come from all of the sudden she wasn't sure, but she realized now that every word of it was true, as well as her apparent anger about it. He had never even attempted to show any sign that there was more than sex to their "thing" and that had hurt her. "And you have the nerve to accuse me of using you? You know what John? Go to hell!"

She turned around again and walked back to the railing, looking out at the vast ocean, trying to regain some composure. When she heard him speak again several long minutes later, his voice was soft and right behind her.

"What about O'Neill?"

Another bitter laugh. "God, John, I consider him a good friend! Believe it or not, we have quite a bit in common - I used to be his boss, now he's mine, makes for a rather unique perspective on each other. Besides, if you have to know, we practically spent the whole evening talking about you. He knows, you know. Not about what happened, but what it feels like." She hesitated a moment before she added. "And even if I wanted to, I'd be too afraid of how Colonel Carter could hurt me if I did anything."

He did a double take. "Carter?! Are you serious?"

"She's the reason he left the SGC. Frat regs. They're keeping it quiet though, to avoid the rumours."

"Holy… Rodney would have a stroke…"

"Which is exactly why you won't be telling him, or anyone else for that matter." She sighed and looked down at her hands. "I hope I can still trust you with that."

At that he gripped her shoulder and turned her around to face him. "You can always trust me, Elizabeth. Nothing you or I will ever say or do can change that." His gaze was intense as their eyes locked, and Elizabeth felt a familiar stirring in her belly. He is too close, a voice screamed in her head, but for once, she refused to listen. They stared at each other for a few long moments, before he let his hand trail slowly down her arm. Elizabeth shivered.

"So I guess I made a huge fool of myself, there, didn't I?"

"I suppose. No more than me, though." They both smiled hesitantly. "I guess we should work at this communication thing."

"We should." he agreed, nodding. "Which leaves the question: what are we going to do now? About us, I mean."

Her face hardened again. "I honestly don't know."

"Lizzie, I…" He cleared his throat. "I'm not very good at this… this feelings and relationship thing. Hell, I've ruined more relationships than I care to count, even my marriage, but… when I showed up at your place, I was really willing to give it another go. I thought, if she'll have me, I will try so hard to make this work…"

"You never said anything." She whispered.

"Neither did you."

"I never cared about your track record, John, and back there we didn't need to say things. We had all the time in the world…"

"So what's changed?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "You don get it, do you? You have the ability to break me, John. And while that is a risk I might have taken back on Earth, I can't afford it here in Atlantis, where so many people depend on me. If you decide to run off with the next alien priestess, the leader of Atlantis will be in pieces! You said it yourself, relationships aren't your thing, so how can I burden you, or anything that might be between us, with that kind of pressure?"

John closed his eyes and took a few deep, measured breaths. He couldn't believe it. Not only that she thought and worried too damn much, she actually managed to take his weakness and turn it into her own fault. If it was at all possible, he had just fallen in love with her a little more.

So he acted on impulse. Before his rational mind could stop him, he took Elizabeth's face in both hands and a moment later, felt her warm, soft lips on his as he kissed her.

**TBC**


	4. Ignition

Chapter 4: Ignition

It was like coming home. Lizzie gave a surprised yelp and grabbed his wrists at first, but any resistance melted away after a few moments as she relaxed against him. When his tongue sneaked out, her lips opened voluntarily and she lost herself in that taste and scent and the rush of feeling that was John Sheppard. Soon, her hands were in his hair and his wandered down her back to the hem of her t-shirt, as the kiss grew more passionate and needy by the second. She hadn't even realized that he was backing her against the railing until her bare skin, where her t-shirt had ridden up under John's assault, touched the cold metal.

The sensation brought her back to reality. Against the screaming protest of her own body, she moved her hands to his chest and pushed him away gently.

"John, this isn't the answer."

His lips were still parted breathlessly as he studied her face. "I don't know, it seemed pretty eloquent to me."

She smiled sadly. "Certainly more honest than we have been with each other in the past week."

John became serious and bit his lip. Without releasing her from his embrace, he looked directly, intensely into her eyes and the butterflies in her stomach gave an angry flutter.

"Oh God," she thought. There was something about the way she reacted to him. It never failed to surprise her how easily he could make her become so totally absorbed in him, his body, his touches, even the looks they shared. The whole world slipped away and it was just them. When he touched her, she always felt like her entire being wanted in on what was happening. But there was more at stake here.

"I am many things Lizzie, but I'm not an idiot." John interrupted her thoughts. He spoke slowly, pronouncing every word carefully, as if to measure whether it was good enough for the occasion. "I neither have, nor ever had the intention of running off anywhere with anyone. If I can have you, why should I settle for anything less? Now –" he put a finger on her lips when she opened her mouth to protest, "- I am by no means saying there isn't a chance it won't work out. There always is, but… I'll be here as long as you'll have me. That I can promise you."

Lizzie's expression was unreadable for a moment and in the span of those few seconds, cold dread washed over him. But then she softly kissed the tip of his finger and her face split into a broad smile. His heart jumped.

"That's good, because I don't intend to let you go in the near future!"

He grinned back and his thumb started caressing her cheek. "Despite the stubbornness, the miscommunication, the jealousy…"

"I thought that was quite cute, actually."

He feigned a hurt look. "Cute?! Ah, the death sentence to manliness. Why don't you just take a knife and stab me through the heart, Lizzie, or better yet, cut off my…"

"Hush," she silenced him with a saucy grin that he bet no one in Atlantis but he had ever seen. "I have better uses for that."

His adorable crooked smile appeared again, and he suddenly slid one of his hands around the nape of her neck, drew her closer and put his mouth on hers. It started out gentle again, with him just teasing her lips with his, then touching the tip of his tongue to her mouth until she opened and took it inside, sliding her own tongue around his in welcome. He uttered a soft little moan, which cut right through her – and there went her higher brain functions. Helplessly, Lizzie put her arms around him and kissed him back whole-heartedly.

After that, there was nothing gentle about this anymore. She could feel his whole body trembling against hers and his fingers massaging her neck, then his left hand dropped down onto her breasts and he just stroked her there through the fabric of her shirt. Another appreciative moan from him. Lizzie thought disjointedly that if he moaned like that again, he could have her do anything he liked, right here on the balcony with the fully staffed control room only an unlocked door away.

She realized that her own hands had found a way beneath his shirt and were alternately pressing into his skin and raking teasingly over his abdomen. From there, they moved back up, to his shoulders, his arms. Lizzie broke the kiss to throw back her head, trying at the same time to arch into and away from his touch. He used that opportunity to kiss his way down her throat, softly licking and sucking all the way, until she moaned softly and squirmed even more.

That was when, with a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr, John practiacally ripped himself away from her to stop her.

"Lizzie," he said, his hoarse voice making her shudder all over again. "Either we stop right here or I swear to God we'll pull this through, no matter who or what comes through that door." With a nod of his head, he indicated towards the control room.

Lizzie's glazed eyes cleared a little when the meaning of his words made it from her ears to her brain. He had a point; they'd been out here for a while and it was only a matter of time until someone, probably Rodney, wouldn't bear the suspense anymore and come to check on them.

"Yes," she said breathlessly, letting her hands fall to her sides, although it hurt her almost physically to stop touching him. "I mean no – no, not here, not… like this."

John pressed his lips together into a fine line and summoned all his willpower to let go of her, to take a step away. For a moment, they looked everywhere but at each other, each searching desperately for some composure. John froze, when he heard her say "Soon, though."

That's when he looked up and into her smiling face. And in that moment, for the first time, he knew they were definitely and absolutely going to be okay. He thought he must be grinning like an idiot.

"Yes, soon." he said. Then something hit him and his expression changed. "In fact, I give you an hour. In my quarters. No -" He raised a hand when she tried to say something. "- one hour. And loose the comm, I don't care what excuse you make up. If you're not there, Lizzie, so help me I'll be there and I'll make good on a little fantasy of mine."

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a defiant look. "Oh? And what exactly would that entail?"

His voice was dangerously calm. "Coming to your office and having my wicked way with you there - right on top of your desk."

She actually blushed a little, but he didn't miss the slight flash of excitement in her eyes, which made his groin ache just that little bit more.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

And as she took in the look in his eyes, all dark and dangerous and sexy, his flushed face and the swollen lips, she could just picture that he would. Much too well.

"I'll be there." she whispered. They looked at each other for another moment, before she broke the eye contact and cleared her throat. "I should probably go in first, give you a few minutes to… you know, sort yourself out."

He laughed and for the first time in weeks, she saw it light up his eyes, too. "Yeah, but you should do something about the hair and the shirt, too. You look like a woman who's just been in a thorough make-out session."

She actually blushed again and began to smooth down her clothes and hair, while he walked to the railing and took a few deep breaths.

"True, no need to fuel the rumor mill any further. God, I don't even want to imagine the kind of talk our little scene has caused."

"Just don't show any weakness when you go back in there. And if anyone asks, we had a misunderstanding and I will recall that transfer request ASAP."

There was a short pause. "Were you really leaving?"

He snickered and was actually glad she didn't see his face. "No. I filed it with General O'Neill. He'd have probably handed me over to the Wraith personally before approving it."

She actually laughed. "You cunning son of a…." A deep sigh. "Right," Her voice was steady and every bit the expedition leader again. He didn't have to turn around to know she looked it again, too. "I'll be off then."

He just nodded, without looking at her. "Off you go. And Lizzie?"

"Yes?"

"One hour."

* * *

It wasn't as bad as she feared. The control room staff actually had the decency to keep the staring and the murmurs to a minimum. Still, Elizabeth made a beeline for her office and was glad that she didn't have to speak to anyone. Once there, she sank into her chair and closed her eyes.

One hour. Oh boy.

No, she wouldn't allow all those events and the accompanying emotions to overwhelm her now. She still had to come up with an excuse for vanishing shortly, preferably one that explained why she had all but scratched her military commander's eyes out earlier. Time to remember her strengths. After all, she wasn't a highly trained negotiator because she was incapable of spinning a line of bull.

Smiling, Elizabeth tapped her earpiece and called Teyla to her office, while already checking her emails for any pressing matters. She was halfway through answering Caldwell that the whole Sheppard-affair had obviously been a misunderstanding and reassignment wasn't an issue, when she heard Teyla's polite voice.

"Dr Weir?"

Okay, time for a performance. She looked up and smiled openly at the Athosian woman. "Teyla, yes, have a seat please."

Teyla nodded and did as she was told. Elizabeth felt her smile freeze as she faced her expectant gaze.

"Is there something wrong, Elizabeth?" The question and the honest concern were not unexpected, which gave the lie an even bitterer aftertaste.

"You probably heard about the little… altercation between John and myself earlier today?"

Teyla actually lowered her eyes. "I confess I have, but I was not sure whether I should believe it. It seemed most… unlike you."

Elizabeth could help but chuckle. "Yes, but I'm afraid it's no less true for that. There was a misunderstanding and I overreacted grossly. That's why I called you here. I need you to have an eye on operations for an hour or two." _An hour or two?, a little voice inside of her questioned, You're giving him a lot of credit, dear._ "I've been having bad headaches for a few days now, and instead of heeding Carson's advice and taking some rest, I allowed them to develop into a full blown migraine." There, not very original but believable. Solid excuse.

"And you believe this is why you lost your temper with Col. Sheppard?"

She actually had to restrain herself not to nod crazily and give herself away. "Yes, it might have been. The bright side is, though, that it made me realize that I'm no good to anyone in this condition. So, belatedly, I think I am going to listen to the good doctor."

Teyla smiled at her reassuringly and Elizabeth's guilty conscience gave her gut another twist. "You definitely should. As calm as matters are at the moment, I believe you might actually take your time."

"Thank you Teyla. I'm just going to finish up a few things here."

"Don't mention it. However…" She paused for a second. "I also heard that Col. Sheppard was going to leave Atlantis. I thought this part of the story was even more ridiculous than the rest, but now, I feel compelled to ask…"

Elizabeth smiled. "Don't worry, that was part of the misunderstanding. John is staying right where he belongs." _With me. _she added mentally. Then she thought of something. "I will be leaving my earpiece off, so no one can wake me accidentally. If there is an emergency, contact Col. Sheppard, I'll let him know where to find me."

"I will. It is good to hear that the two of you have reconciled." Teyla got up from her seat. "I hope you feel better soon, Elizabeth."

Another twang of guilt shot through her, quickly followed by excitement. "Thank you, Teyla."

It was done, she thought as she watched the other woman go. Shit. What now?

* * *

Lizzie felt like a sixteen year old, as she stood nervously in front of his quarters.

Get a grip on yourself, Beth, it's only John, after all! This wasn't even their first time. No, the first time had been like a natural evolution of things. On her couch, snuggling up over a movie and after a bottle of wine, it had been so natural when his lips had found hers and things had gradually become more heated until she had completely surrendered to his touches and kiss.

But the fact that she was here now, during work hours (quiet though they may be), without her communicator and with her hands wringing nervously, that was new. This might not be the first time Lizzie was going to be with John, but it was definitely the first time the leader of the Atlantis expedition took an hour off to screw her military commander senseless.

And if she had any say in the matter, it would also be the last – at least during work hours. But then, if John continued to have that effect on her, she was well aware that she wouldn't have a say in the matter.

She needed to work on that.

The doors slid open and she winced when she saw him standing in the doorway. How a man could look so hot (yes, hot, even her overeducated brain couldn't come up with any word that was more fitting to the sight in front of her) in simple cargo pants and a black t-shirt was beyond her. His smile was casual.

"Oh, you're here. I was just coming to see you!"

Lizzie was very proud that she managed to prevent her jaw from dropping at the implications and resulting images this simple sentence conjured. She was a strong, confident, highly articulate woman, damnit, and she refused to be reduced to a stammering girlie by a cocky, rakish… oh, never mind.

"No you weren't." she said, going for defiance. "You knew I'd be here. After all, there is something I want from you."

The smile slowly turned into a grin. "In that case, you should come in."

_Come into my lair, said the spider to the fly. . ._

He only moved to the side, so she had to walk right past him. No sooner had the doors slid closed than he grabbed her waist and pushed her back against them. Instinctively, her eyes closed and her hands went around his neck, trusting him infinitely. Lightning flashed behind her closed lids as his mouth crashed down on hers and anything that could be classified as doubt, or indeed, thought was washed away. Within moments, hands and lips were roaming, scratching, ripping at clothing, trying to reach as much bare skin as possible.

Tumbling, they crossed the short distance to the bed and she dimly realized that John turned them around. He then tipped her backwards onto the mattress, sweeping "War and Peace" onto the floor where it landed, pages all crumbled and forgotten.

"Don't doubt me, ever again Lizzie." he said in the deadliest, softest voice she had ever heard come out of his mouth. It went through her like a lightning bolt.

"I wont," she all but breathed, "I promise."

"Show me."

Later, she wrapped her arms around his sweaty body and he rested his damp head, hair sticking up at even wilder angles than usual, on her heaving chest. And again, in the same heart-squeezing soft voice, he said "Lizzie - don't ever scare me like that again – don't ever go."

She dragged her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead. "John - I won't go - I can't live without you. God help me."

"God help us both," he said after a bit, and broke into a soft laugh.

She joined him after a brief, startled moment. They ended up laughing so hard that they rolled onto the floor and lay there in a tangle of naked limbs, her clothes and the ruined bed linens. Leaning back against the bed, he pulled her in his arms and kissed her hair. She snuggled comfortably into his embrace.

"I'm sorry."

She lifted her head and smiled at him with heavy-lidded eyes. The expression on his face was warm and open, devoid of he usual sarcastic twist.

"So am I." she whispered. And as she put her head back against his chest, breathing in his scent and feeling the strong arms that held her, she realized that whatever happened, she would and could never stop loving this man.

"What?" he asked tenderly, sensing her shift slightly.

"Nothing. Just that we need to set some rules about the how and when to do this in the future."

"God, Lizzie, just enjoy the moment, will ya?"

She smiled into his chest and said nothing. Now, she really was home.

_

* * *

_

_Meanwhile in a corridor near the control room..._

"Dr Beckett!"

"Teyla, how are you my dear?" He smiled at her brightly.

"I'm fine, thank you. Have you been checking on Elizabeth?"

The doctor frowned, as concerned as he was confused. "Elizabeth? No, why, what is wrong with her?"

Teyla angled her head in surprise. "Her migraine. I was under the impression that you ordered her to rest?"

Carson shook his head determinedly. "I'm sure I did no such thing, love; Dr Weir hasn't come to see me since her last check up. Not that resting isn't always a good idea for her. What made you think that?"

"She did." Teyla frowned. "Earlier today she told me to keep an eye on operations so she could lie down, as you ordered her. She was, in fact, afraid that her headaches might cause more irrational behaviour if she didn't – like screaming at Col. Sheppard earlier."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, I heard about that. Rumours are flying around the city like bloody vultures. They make a little more sense if she has a migraine, though."

"Whatever it might have been," Teyla answered diplomatically, "it seems they have settled their disagreement. Elizabeth left instructions to contact John in order to reach her in case of an emergency…"

It was a testament to Carson's analytical mind that two and two equalled four to him only moments after Teyla, who was a little more informed about the actual goings on than he was. They both froze and turned to look at each other simultaneously.

"You don't think…" Carson began, his face muscles straining to contain the grin that threatened to break through. Teyla hesitated for a long moment; then shook her head decidedly.

"No, Elizabeth would never…"

"John on the other hand, most definitely would."

"But to persuade her to that…"

"Oh, I believe the lad can be quite persuasive if he has his heart set on something."

"That he most definitely can." Teyla smiled, remembering one particular incident from two years ago. "Still, I'm not convinced."

The mischievous look on Carson's face gave him the look of a three year old in a candy store, when he pointed at his earpiece. "Well, dear, there is one way to find out."

Teyla bit her lip, torn between protecting her friends' privacy and sheer female curiosity. "Are you sure that's wise?"

Carson's raised eyebrows told her that he was well aware that she was just as curious as he was. Guiltily, she squeezed her eyes shut as she nodded quickly. "Just… don't mention my name."

Carson tapped on the comm. "Sheppard this is Beckett."

They looked at each other and he waited, but there was nothing but static on the line. Shaking his head, he tried again. "Col. Sheppard this is Dr Beckett, come in please."

This time, the static crackled a bit and Carson raised a hand in indication to Teyla that something was happening. A moment later, a rather breathless Sheppard spoke into his ear.

"Read you Doc, what's wrong?" There were noises in the background, a sure sign that Sheppard wasn't actually wearing his earpiece, but merely holding it to his face. Carson grinned and nodded towards Teyla, whose face broke into a broad, happy smile. But he wasn't done yet.

"Colonel, I can't seem to get a hold of Dr Weir, she's not in her quarters like she's supposed to." Teyla was astounded at Carson's natural delivery.

A pause, more rumbling. "What... uh, makes you think I know where she is?"

Bingo, Beckett thought. So the good Doctor didn't take the time to inform the Colonel of the excuses she made up? Interesting concept.

"I was told to contact you, son; I just need to check up on her. Teyla said her headaches are getting worse."

A slap on the arm from Teyla at the mention of her name, but Carson just shrugged. He couldn't have helped it.

"Listen Doc, this is…_yelp_… not a good time right now. I don't think Dr Weir needs anything but re-est at the... uh, moment."

It was all Carson could do not to laugh out loud at John's obvious struggles. He had by now no doubt whatsoever of their nature. But before he could even reply, all of the sudden, Teyla went rigid and her face fell. He didn't even have time to register that the comm link had gone silent, he just watched Teyla pale and put her hands on her face and the doctor in him took over.

"Are you alright lass?" he asked worriedly and walked over to her. But she just lifted one hand to bid him wait. After a few moments, she nodded slowly.

"Of course I will. Right away. Most definitely."

Carson blinked a few times. "Teyla?"

She took a deep breath and tried to say something, but as soon as she opened her mouth, a small giggle escaped her. Carson had hardly the time to wonder at the unusual sound from this strong, stoic woman, when the giggle turned into all out laughter until she almost doubled over.

"Teyla? Are you alright? What is it?"

With that, she looked at him and finally calmed down enough to speak. "That was Dr Weir on John's communicator, telling me to stop interrupting, to mind my own business and get back to work, as well as to remind you to do the same."

Carson actually blushed a little. Served him right for wanting to be reckless for once. "Bloody hell. Why on earth were you laughing, then?"

Teyla giggled again. "With her last sentence, she also told me to pass on to you that you'll probably be happy to hear that she plans on spending much more time in bed in the future."

Carson actually choked, which had Teyla start laughing all over again. But after a few moments he joined in, genuinely happy for their friends. When they started walking towards the transporter, Carson added "You know, as much as I want to believe it, I sort of doubt that this means she'll finally get eight hours of uninterrupted rest."

"No Carson, I think it might take bigger things than that to ensure this."

_Fade out__ and credits roll to the tune of Amanda Marshall's "This Could Take All Night"…_

**FIN**


End file.
